After I leave here…I have no frethur plans.This is as far as I want to
go.All journeys must end and mine hasLasted long after many friends
andLoved ones have fallen asleep.My remains will be laid by myLoved ones
beneath the stoneThat already carries my nameAnd date of birth. A
quietSpot, surrounded on the sidesBy the limestone quarries whoseOffer of
work enticed so manyYoung people from their smallEuropean villages to the
promisedLand whose promises turned outTo be the same as those they had
left.Many visitors have come to enjoy theBeauty of this place – its
limestoneCliffs and small beaches surroundedBy the restless waters of Lake
Erie.So much has changed, marshlands,Meadows of prairie grass, thin
woodLands, old willow trees eternally dippingTheir branches into the waters
of the bay,Most of these have disappeared along withThe small farms and
peach orchards, ForA while the limestone quarried here helpedMake the
steel that raised up so many greatBuildings in the cities to the East –
now, theyToo are slipping away. As all things must.“To every thing there
is a time….and a season…”It is easier to know when an era has
passedThan the life of an individual. Yet what isAn era but many
individual lives takenTogether? The times that are now on stageAre not my
times. My times have exited,Stage right and I am content to join
them,Whenever I am called…

Oh…lovely. Thank you for remnndiig me of this poem. I really love
that book.This poem also reminds me a little bit of some of Jane
Hirschfield’s poems in “The Lives of the Heart,” do you
know that collection?…try especially “Heart Pressing
Further.”

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